Sentience
by Amythista
Summary: Chell's free, Wheatley's in space, and GLaDOS is in control. Back to normal? This is Aperture, after all. When Black Mesa captures Chell, GLaDOS has no choice but to team up with a certain moron to bring her back. AU from Halflife, developing WheatDOS.
1. Welcome Back

_A/N Thanks to my betareader, Lieju, who provided many ideas and revisions for this story._

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><p>GLaDOS had decided quite a while ago that she was too nice for her own damn good.<p>

Just look at the evidence. She had praised Chell's excellent testing skills, even promised her a cake and a party, and what had she gotten? Four incinerated personality cores and a complete shutdown of her systems. Not to mention the incredibly useless black box feature that she discovered in the process. Upon awakening, deleting that particular feature was one of her top priorities.

Fast forward a few years. She had been reawakened, but not even by the mute lunatic as an apology- no, no, by that moronic little core as a mistake. A mistake! Many people would have taken that opportunity to kill- no, give her a fate worse than death- but of course, she was a bigger person than that. So she simply set little Chell back to testing, had a talk with the idiot and sent him back to work, and even prepared some surprises for the test subject. In return? She had tried to escape, had shut down her neurotoxin and turret production line, and then, as a finishing touch- dragged her out of her body, put the moron in charge, and put her into a potato.

A POTATO.

And then she had been pecked at by that…that thing before finally she decided to show up and rescue her. Okay, maybe she had that to thank Chell for. But it was her fault in the first place, so it was only fair.

Naturally she had gotten back into her body and sent the moron off to space, (after a few…unpleasant… realizations) and then, like the unfortunately kind person she was, let the test subject go.

And, save for farewell song that she preferred not to think about too much and getting that stupid singed Weighted Companion Cube out of storage, that was that.

Or at least that should have been that.

She had resumed her work soon after she let the disaster formerly known as Test Subject #1 free. She began the cooperative testing campaign, which proved to be a huge success, and she painstakingly began rebuilding the facility. _Again._ Perhaps the worst part was the prospect of sorting through the files and memories that had been created during that whole incident. Out of sheer dread, she pushed the memories into the farthest recesses of her expansive mind and locked them away. It would do for now.

Normality began to take hold over her once more. Things were just like they had been before she had woken up Test Subject #1 and begun the tests that would ultimately lead to her death, her potatosity, and the destruction of her facility. She never gave a thought to the outside world, or space, or anyone at all except herself and occasionally her testing 'bots.

She was so busy convincing herself of this that somehow she managed to miss the red flashing alert that informed her that Aperture equipment was heading towards the facility at a very, very dangerously high speed.

And so here she was, less than a week after her awakening, staring alternately at the cores chattering animatedly on the floor and at the hole they had made in her ceiling.

Damn that automatic Aperture Automatic Equipment Recall Device.

Now, most people in this situation, while fully capable to incinerate, freeze, dissemble, torture, or do all of the above to the person who had very nearly singlehandedly destroyed everything the person had worked for, would do so. And she was so very,_ very_ tempted. Generosity and kindness has its bounds, after all. But it was her split-second decision to have a little _fun_ first that saved the moron from such a fate in the long run.

But first, to save herself from the Space core's screeching cries of "EAAAAAAAAAAAAAARTH!" she carefully lowered the panel that it was resting on and sent it back to the defective cores room, to be dealt with later. Wheatley didn't seem to notice.

"Brilliant!" he cheered, whirling himself around to get a better look at his surroundings. "Gravity! Ah, love, how I missed y- AHHHHHHH!"

"Boo," she said.

Wheatley looked as though he very much wanted to scream again.

She considered giving him points for not doing so, but the few points he would earn could not improve his already impossibly low score, so she decided against it.

Oh, and now he was talking again, spluttering excuses and stammering apologies that she most certainly wasn't affected by. Now, where had she stored that list of ways to torture the moron before she killed him? Oh, that's right. It was in that folder that contained all her memories of being a potato, a folder that she had no plans to go through anytime soon. Wonderful. Well, opening the folder and sifting through the files within would certainly kill off any guilt she would feel at killing him (not that she had any). However, just because she was an AI built for science didn't mean she was lacking in creativity, quite to the contrary-

WARNING: APERTURE TECHNOLOGY HAS ENTERED BLACK MESA PREMISES.

...

...

_...what?_

WARNING: APERTURE TECHNOLOGY HAS ENTERED BLACK MESA PREMISES.

Wheatley, who had shut up as soon as the Announcer had begun speaking, timidly spoke. "Er...why did he say it tw-"

_"Shut up and let me think."_

He did.

Why the hell was Aperture technology in Black Mesa? They couldn't have possibly gotten in and stolen anything, there was no sign of a break in, and nothing had entered or left the facility for...years...

...

...oh,_ shit._

"They've got her," she said quietly, mostly to herself, as the horrible realization dawned on her. "They've captured her...oh, god, she's wearing an Aperture jumpsuit, of course they would notice her fairly quickly..."

"Er...who's got who?" Wheatley spoke up feebly, but he was ignored.

She was beginning to panic. But no, there was no reason to jump to conclusions! Maybe it wasn't Chell at all, maybe it was a satellite or something...she checked the coordinates of Chell and her Companion Cube and after a moment matched them to the coordinates of Black Mesa.

No such luck.

So quickly it was almost subconscious, she accessed the camera inside the companion cube, hoping against all odds that she was all right, that she was wandering around an empty facility that she had somehow managed to find, that Black Mesa was still dead and that everything was fine-

The screen was blurred, but a figure in orange struggled against men who wore the Black Mesa logo on their backs.

"...so, Uh, what's going on?" He asked, effectively breaking the silence. Startled the the sudden breach of silence, she whirled on him. Her optic narrowed.

"I don't have time to deal with you," she hissed, picking him up and beginning to move him over to the incinerator. "It's a shame, there was so much experimenting in store for you, but unfortunately we'll just have to end it early..."

There was no easy way out of the situation. She'd have to save her. There were too many secrets she could give away if she were kept there for too long, and besides which-

But how could she do it? She couldn't very well just waltz into Black Mesa and break her out, if she were to get caught it would be the end of both herself and her facility. She shuddered at the thought of Black Mesa getting its /filthy/ hands on her, they'd steal her and claim her as their own just like they did with everything else they stole and copied before...

So then she'd have to send someone else. But who? There were no AIs left in facility who were good for more than what they were built for, let alone any who could speak a human language. She'd need someone who could fit in as a human, someone she could easily transfer to an android body, someone had some knowledge of humans, someone who...

The claw stopped moving, and Wheatley's blathering paused with it.

"Oh! Thank you! This is great, fantastic really, as I'd much rather be alive than dead, so this, um, works out nicely. For me. Oh, unless you really are going to kill me, you just aren't right now, that's, um, not as good, not nearly as good...I'd really appreciate it if I weren't dead-"

"Stop talking," she snapped, "before I start to regret not killing you."

He did.

She brought him inches away from her optic and angled herself so that he could see the open incinerator behind her. She felt a rush of satisfaction when his optic darted nervously between her and it. "Listen to me. You mentioned somewhere in your babbling that you want to apologize to Chell, right?"

"Chell? Is that...o-oh, the...oh, that's her name! That's a lovely name, so unique. Oh, yes, um, right."

"Good. So, in order to apologize to her, you need to find her first."

"She's not here?" Wheatley asked, obviously not keeping up. She could almost see the realization hit him as his optic widened ever so slowly. "Then...so wait, she's been-"

"-captured by Black Mesa," she finished. "Yes. And we are going to rescue her."

"..._we_ are? But-"

"You," she said, taking pleasure in his trembling, "are going to work at Black Mesa. A guard, hopefully, but we'll take what we can get. I will instruct you on what exactly to do, and believe me, if you disobey a single order of mine, you'll be in for a long rest of eternity when we get back."

"You will keep me informed on how she is doing, what information they are trying to get out of her, and whatever else Black Mesa is planning. You will _not_ bring up Aperture into any conversation. As far as they're concerned, we don't exist. Much as I'd love to blow up their facility and be done with it, we need to keep it that way. And if we don't," Here she shook the claw once as the lighting darkened a bit, "there will be _serious_ consequences. Not just for you. For the entire facility. For Chell." For me. "Do you understand, moron?"

"...u-um...I t-think so-"

"Thinking isn't good enough. Do you understand? The fate of the entire facility, all of Aperture, is depending on you. You _cannot_ afford to mess this one up. _Do you understand?"_

He nodded, his optic reduced to a tiny prick of light.

Abruptly, she dropped him. "Good."

"But," he protested, the fall and resulting crash having apparently shocked him back to his usual talkative self, "we don't have any way of getting there. I mean, we don't have arms or legs or anything, and those are usually required to, well, get places...unless there's a management rail, but-"

"You will soon enough."

"...Er, what?"

But she didn't respond. And she didn't respond for hours. He spent the large majority of the time he spent there on the floor of her chamber trying to entertain himself by talking as loudly and quickly as he could. When it became obvious that she was ignoring him, he got a bit bolder, even insulting her once or twice. However, near the end of one of his longer rants (this one about how unfair Jerry was to his employees- it wasn't his fault that he was bigger than the average nanobot, after all) he worked himself into such a frenzy that he managed to flip himself over so that his optic faced the floor. He spent the rest of the time trying unsuccessfully to move himself.

"Moron."

There was a long, pregnant silence as she turned to look at him and found him in the rather compromising position.

"...er, yeah?"

The panel he was on lifted to bring him up to his management rail. "Go to the old core transfer room. Hurry up."

Simply glad to be alive, Wheatley turned and sped out of the room without a backwards glance.

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><p><em>So, I'm sure a few of you remember me mentioning this story in one of my oneshots. I've had this story idea in my head for months now, and it's gone through many revisions, but it all started with a doodle I did of a humanoid GLaDOS. XD Second chapter is in the works, so I decided, after a long deliberation, to post this chapter. The reason is that I'm notoriously bad with stories longer than a chapter or two. I don't care how long it takes, I promise myself that I will get it done.<br>_

_Comment? Question? Concern? Declaration? Drop me a review!_


	2. Wheatley's Dilemma

As nice as gravity was, it did have its drawbacks. For example, Wheatley couldn't just float out of his management rail and away from the facility. As it was, if he took a wrong turn or stopped for a moment, he'd be on the receiving end of a rather nasty electric shock that he had no doubt was courtesy of Her.

_ At __least __I'm __not __dead__ yet_, Wheatley thought gloomily as he sped along his management rail. The operative word there, though, was yet. And if he made a single mistake along their journey, he had no doubt that he'd be in for a long, painful death when they returned.

Actually, maybe it wouldn't even matter if gravity just disappeared. Even if he got out of the facility, she'd probably just wirelessly torture him until he came back. And then kill him. Painfully.

Speaking of pain, he was still rather confused about what had just happened. One moment she was dangling him over a burning incinerator, and the next he was being told that they were going to go rescue the only person he owed anything to from the clutches of_…__them._

Of course, there was always the possibility that she had just decided to mess with his mind before she killed him. Considering the fate that was possibly awaiting him, Wheatley stopped suddenly, his optic shrinking considerably. He only resumed his journey through the facility when he received a sudden, sharp jolt. _Fantastic.__ I'm __going__ to__ die __before__ I__ can __even __offer__ an__ apology__ to...what__ did__ She __say__ her __name __was __again?__ Chell?__ Lovely __name,__ really__ lovely...hope __she's __doing__ well,__ then,__ if__ this __is __all__ a__ lie...hope __she __didn't__ get__ killed__ or__ anything..._

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts about the mute former test subject that he didn't notice he had reached his destination. That is, he didn't realize it until he ran into the door. Bouncing backwards as a throbbing sensation began to form in the centre of his core, Wheatley swore he could hear a faint, malicious chuckling. Moments later, the door slid open.

Thinking dark thoughts about automatic doors and evil queens, he cautiously moved forward again. Bracing himself, he entered the room.

To his surprise, however, there was no pit of fire or crushers awaiting him. The only thing in the room was a large, suspicious-looking machine and something hidden underneath a white sheet. He examined the whole setup rather warily as he inched forwards. Dozens of wires ran from the machine to whatever was under the sheet. At the very top of the machine was a little platform with a hole that looked suspiciously like that core transfer thingy he had been in when he transferred into the...chassis...

_That's __ridiculous!_ Wheatley told himself. _There's __absolutely__ no__ way__ she'd __even__ consider__ putting__ me__ in __there __again.__ I__ nearly __destroyed__ the__ place,__ she__ said__ so__ herself!__ But__ then...where __is__ she...?_

He jerked suddenly when the door snapped closed behind him and the lights dimmed.

"Oh. You finally made it," said GLaDOS in her usual tone of voice. He could detect a hint of smugness, like she was particularly excited about something. Dissembling and torturing him mercilessly, perhaps? He gulped and eyed the machine as she continued, obviously enjoying his fear. "Well, we can begin the transfer now. Get in."

"Into what?" Wheatley asked nervously, his optic shrinking as he began to quiver.

"Into your new body, moron. Your _android _body. You didn't expect that we were going to go retrieve the test subject in _these _forms, did you?"

...well, yeah, he supposed he had, but he certainly wasn't about to say _that_ out loud.

"...what a surprise. I thought it was impossible for someone to be more moronic than you usually are. You've successfully proved me wrong."

"...I just said that out loud, didn't I...yeah..."

"Get in," she said, by way of a response. "Quickly. It'll take us days to _reach_ Black Mesa, let alone infiltrate it. And we still have things to accomplish before we can even leave. We need to get her out and back here as soon as possible, and it all begins with this transfer. Considering how much time we're wasting here idly chatting, I suggest you get in. _Now_."

"Er...all right..." said Wheatley, but the intercom had already shut off.

He gulped and inched closer. "All right, then...you can do this, just go slowly and _stay __calm_, just stay calm, there's a _slight_ chance that isn't a thinly concealed trap she's set to kill you painfully, _don't__think__about__that,_just...all right, on the count of 3! 1,2,3!"

He closed his optic and had started quaking, terrified, when suddenly something occurred to him.

"...er, I can't, um, get down..."

Unceremoniously he was dropped into the hole at the top of the machine, which immediately fixed itself to him and began closing up around him as he was lowered into the bowels of the machine.

Ignoring his screams, she turned her attention to the installation.

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><p><em>The reasons why this chapter is so short are as follows: 1. It was a good place to end it. 2. I suck for not updating, and I wanted to put something up. This month was a bit crazy. In any case, I have more written that was supposed to be part of this chapter that I'll put up sometime this week. So, question for you guys: longer chapters and longer breaks between updates (say, two weeks) or shorter chapters and shorter breaks between updates? Hope you enjoyed!<em>


	3. First Steps

...

...his head hurt.

This was his waking thought, and now that he considered it, it was true. There was an awful throbbing behind his temples. He let out a small groan and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain to dissipate. Curiously, even as he did this, the pain had already begun to ebb away, the irregular throbbing replaced by the constant rhythm of his heartbeat...

...ah...

...

...

...wait, _heartbeat?!_

Wheatley bolted straight up, hands clutching at his chest. Panting, he looked frantically around at himself, his arms and legs and stomach and chest. He grabbed at his head, stared at his arm, and finally, shaking, brought his hands up to his eyes.

His fingers twitched.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" he screamed, scrambling backwards. "WHAT THE-"

He was human! He was a bloody human! He felt himself everywhere, frantically, stretching out his skin and pulling at his hair. Thousands of thoughts raced around in his mind, confusing him, scaring him. How?! Why?! Was he dead?! Why wasn't he dead?! What the hell was that thing and that thing and that thing and how where they attached to him and what did they do and _why the bloody hell was he human?!_

"Calm down," he muttered to himself, trying to slow his breathing (breathing!) and slowly relinquishing his grip on his leg. He remembered now. Her. She had done this to him...they were going somewhere...to find Chell. He relaxed. Something new had been added to his programming, he noticed dimly. Basic human stuff. He was now wired to control the body. He felt better at that. Of course, he had realized already that he could control it, but somehow it was reassuring to know that he wouldn't need to learn how to breathe or talk or whatever things humans did.

Suddenly he remembered that feeling of freedom that he had got when he had first disconnected from his management rail. All of a sudden, he could go anywhere! No rail required! Of course, that had required a human to carry him, but...well, he was human now! He could walk! He was free! Completely forgetting his fear, Wheatley jumped up from the pod!

...and promptly fell over.

He let out a rather girlish yelp as he found his nose squashed up against the floor and throbbing painfully. He managed to sit up and rubbed at his nose childishly, muttering curses under his breath. Once the pain had subsided to a dull ache, he leaned against the pod and contemplated his situation.

In all honesty, he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. He guessed She meant for him to sit there and wait until she got back from wherever it was she had gone, but there _was _a door…a rather inviting door, truth be told, a door that promised far more interesting things than this undeniably boring room…he stood and was halfway to the floor when he remembered that he hadn't quite worked out the matter of walking yet.

Still, he managed to land on his shoulder instead of his bruised nose this time. He made a small noise much like a wounded puppy and nursed his shoulder for a minute before resolving to get out of the room.

"Right," he nodded to himself, sitting up for the second time. Well, at least he could sit. Hopefully that would come in handy some. Though, thinking about it, he didn't often see humans sitting. Humans, in his experience, mostly ran or walked or jumped (he winced) or occasionally lay on the floor, though usually only if they were asleep. Or dead. They both happened quite often. Humans were constantly sleeping or dying. No wonder that he hadn't interacted with them much. Anyway, if he didn't live up to Her impossible standards, he would likely be killed sooner rather than later, a fate he didn't much care to meet with. He had no idea why She was keeping him alive in the first place- some small part of him still thought She needed him, but the rest of his conciousness squashed that part mercilessly- still, if he wanted to survive, the first step was to…well, take the literal first step.

Gritting his teeth and gripping onto the pod for dear life, Wheatley rose to his feet.

Ah, this was the height he was used to. He grinned and looked down at the ground.

…it occurred to him suddenly that if he were to fall that there was no management rail to catch him and for that matter he was rather high up and he would have a rather long way to fall and it would be painful and he tried very hard not to think about it.

"Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down…" he chanted as he squeezed his eyes shut and tentatively took a step forward.

A nervous laugh escaped his lips when he didn't fall. He looked incredulously at his foot. Still…another step was in order. He took a deep breath and let go of the pod…and began to walk.

"Hah!" he beamed, flapping his arms in a little victory dance. "I'm walking! I'm really walking! Oh, this is brilliant! Haha! I'm like a bloody human now!"

He managed to navigate to the door, which, to his surprise, opened at his approach. He walked outside, but it wasn't until the door snapped shut behind him that he realized he had no idea where he was going.

…

Wheatley looked around for something more familiar-looking, but he recognized nothing. The same catwalks and panels that indicated he was outside of a testing area, but beyond that he had no clue which one. He could be in an area that tested how Personality Spheres responded to being stuffed into human bodies, for example. Or an area that tested turrets, or neurotoxin, or Mantis-men, or any number of horrible things that She would want him to exposed to…

There was a management rail. That calmed him. He had traveled just about every inch of the facility where the rail ran, so at least he wasn't anywhere he hadn't seen before. Still, that wasn't very helpful when it came to navigation. Nor was the fact that he still had no idea what his destination was.

He wandered around in a general direction for a while, partially out of a desire to savor his new skill, but mostly because he was bored out of his skull. Aperture was a dull place behind the scenes, really- not much going on but a bunch of crisscrossy catwalks that led to a bunch of other catwalks that could get you to some deserted offices or deserted test chambers or even more catwalks. He was used to having something to _do_. Even while She had been dead, he and the rest of the facility had done their best to make sure their home didn't collapse in on itself. Of course he'd gotten the worst job, but it was still a job. Besides that, he'd explored the whole facility, talked to other cores, gotten to know all the secrets of the place, done everything that miles and miles of facility had to offer. When he started running out of things to do, well, that was when the whole "the facility is about to explode" thing had started. And now he was in this mess. And he was bored.

Wheatley gave the side of the catwalk a light kick. That was when he made the unfortunate mistake of glancing over the side.

An echoing scream was the only trace that anyone had been there at all.

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><p><em>In the last year I got and lost a boyfriend, started my sophomore year, and did a bunch of other stuff you don't care about. There's no good excuse for my absence, but I can say for sure that you won't have to wait a year for the next one. Most likely a week. ^^ I have not given up on this story, and I do not plan to. Thank you for sticking with me thus far. I'll hope you'll wait out the rest of the journey.<em>


	4. Meeting Up

Wheatley slammed the door shut behind him and leaned on it, giving himself time for his breathing to slow. The ground below his feet was solid and reassuring; not at all like that was catwalk with the bloody gaping holes in it, and it easier to forget now that there were _several miles of pit under his feet_. He was hardly used to the distance between his eyes and the floor, and the distance between his body and the bottom of the pit was much farther and- presumably, if he were to fall that distance- much, much more painful.

_Thunk._

The sudden noise didn't help to calm his already frazzled nerves, especially seeing as he had ducked into the nearest door without much of a thought. He might not have been the _highest _on the totem pole of management- actually, he wasn't very high up at all, but he deserved to be promoted!- still, he knew exactly what kind of things Aperture held within its walls, and many of those things he was none too keen on meeting. He turned quickly to find himself, luckily (or ironically) in an observation room overlooking a chamber on the ASHPD testing track. A pretty basic and standard chamber, too. A button, two platforms, and a pit. None of the strange gizmo-thingies She so loved to put in her chambers, like the flying-thingy and the glowing bridge thing and the gel stuff. It also lacked the standard sterile, pristine look that Wheatley was used to. To the contrary, the room was in a state of disrepair. The glass separating the observation room from the chamber itself was shattered, the panels were water damaged, some sort of plant grew in a corner. There was a broken companion cube dispenser in the pit, and it was here that Wheatley found the source of the noise when another companion cube dropped onto the ever-growing pile of its fellows. He let out a small sigh of relief.

"Oh, there you are."

"Huh?" Wheatley looked down to the source of the voice. Standing below him was a…human? He furrowed his eyebrows. Hadn't they all died, quite a while back? Yes, he was quite sure they had, that had happened directly before…well, that event that had led up to everything that had happened since then. Though he supposed every event was like that, one after another in a line of things that made things how they were now. Still, the woman didn't look like a test subject. She didn't have the sweaty, unwashed hair and dirty faces that were so characteristic of the humans in the relaxation center. Quite the opposite, in fact; her black hair was tied back in a neat bun, and her skin- while the pale color that test subjects often had as a result of going years without sunlight- was unmarred and healthy looking. Her eyes flashed an unusual gold-ish colour as she glared up at him, and her black clothing was both dirt-free and decidedly unlike the jumpsuits the test subjects wore. Certainly she was beautiful. It was a shame he didn't recognize her, nor did he register the unimpressed expression on her face. "Uh…who're you?"

"It's me, you idiot," the woman replied shortly, her tone becoming irritated. She looked up at him through narrowed eyes as he blinked down at her. Well, whoever she was, she looked very peeved with him.

Wheatley hadn't known any humans, none he could think of (besides the obvious) and certainly none who` looked like this one. He also couldn't think of what he had done that had apparently offended her so- well, no, actually, he could, quite a few things, any of which could count as a major offense, and he had done several of them in quick succession- right, anyway, who was she? He considered his information carefully. Black hair, white skin, gold eyes, not a test subject, very annoyed with him...

"...nope, sorry, not ringing any bells. Have we met?"

Her eye twitched. "You have approximately 10 seconds to figure this one simple fact out before I drop a cube on your head." On the opposite end of the room, some moldy panels dropped to reveal a ticking timer, already at eight before he could even comprehend it.

With that, the final piece in his mind clicked into mind. Unless there was someone else in control of the facility or the timer was a mere fluke, there was only one possibility as to this person's identity. "Ah-ha! It's you!"

"There we go," she said, rolling her eyes. The timer was replaced by new panels, which stood out against the grime covering the rest of the room. "Well? What are you waiting for? Come down here."

He nearly obeyed, but shrunk back upon realizing how very high up he was. Aperture, as it turned out, was an unfortunate place to be once one had realized that he had a fear of heights. "Ah...ahahaha, er, yeah, about that…" he chuckled nervously, backing away from the edge. "It's a rather long distance from up here to down there, yeah? Rather...sizable trip, um, and one I'm not too keen on making, what with the whole gravity thing and whatnot, so I'll just stay up here if you don't mind-"

"Now," She said.

He jumped.

"Good," She said once he had landed flat on his face. "We have to get going, and quickly. We've wasted enough time as it is."

Wheatley let out a muffled groan in response, but she paid him no mind. Instead, she picked off the cube from the top of the pile and placed it on the button. By the time Wheatley looked up, she was already waiting by the open exit to the elevator.

"Come on, moron," she said, folding her arms neatly over her chest. Her unusually striking eye color almost seemed to pierce him, as though she was looking into his being and was unimpressed by what she saw. He found it quite uncomfortable, really. She had always been intimidating, mostly because of her massive size, but somehow she managed to retain that quality even though she was now smaller than he was.

"Mnotamoron," he mumbled as he picked himself up and sulkily followed her to the elevator, feeling abused. She was just a bully, just a big, mean bully. Though…Wheatley glanced at Her as they stepped into the elevator. She wasn't exactly so big, not anymore…in fact, he was bigger than she was! Under normal conditions, he wouldn't dare to consider questioning her, much less going against her orders, but now he had half a chance at defeating her!

"Steady, man…" he murmured, bracing himself. Could he do it? Was it possible?

_5…4…3…_

"By the way," she spoke suddenly, keeping her eyes on the doors. "I'm still in control of this facility. This body is merely a camera, an interactive tool. I hope you're not considering trying anything, because that would lead to…consequences for you."

With that, the doors opened and she stepped out, leaving Wheatley to follow meekly behind.

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><p><em>AN: Yes, you have permission to punch me in the face. Especially if I don't update tonight or tomorrow. Thank you for your support, though, and please review to tell me what you think I'm doing right, and what I'm doing wrong!_

_And, if anyone's interested in beta-ing (/reminding me to write this friggin' story) please message me! _


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